It wasn't intentional, of course. Well, perhaps a little. Not like he was going to admit it.

It should have been the most embarrassing thing in the world coming from someone like Alec. But here he was, his lips slightly pouting, eyebrows frowning, holding up his thumb.

His curse—the one you called precious—his suck-ass regenerative, made him often ask you to heal him, no matter how small the wound, even if it was just a paper cut.

"It hurts..."

His eyes stared up at you with a sparkle in the light brown color, pleading, practically begging you to heal him.

"Please?"